


The Last Word

by Mallymkun



Series: Drabbles [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Car Accidents, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:19:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallymkun/pseuds/Mallymkun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing can keep Enjolras from having the last word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lesgledemeaux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesgledemeaux/gifts).



Grantaire remembers.

He doesn’t remember everything but what he does remember haunts him.

He remembers lights.

He remembers the sound of metal folding in on itself.

He remembers glass slicing across light skin making his vision red and their intertwined hands sticky.

He remembers screams.

And then nothing.

Light. Hurried whispers. Beeping. Sobs. Light.

Disbelief.

Killed almost instantly they tell him. But Grantaire remembers, and for him it wasn’t instant. And he was sure it wasn’t instant for Enjolras. 

 

_“Why do you introduce yourself as R?” He manages to be passionate about it, about something as simple as Grantaire’s name._

_“I find it more suiting.” And Enjolras frowns, and Grantaire laughs because it’s almost a pout and he just wants to kiss him._

_“Why?”_

_“It’s easy to remember, and I’m easy to forget.” He shrugs and Enjolras frowns again, he hates when people shrug. Apparently it’s “a completely unnecessary noncommittal gesture”._

_“I disagree.”_

_“Of course you do.”_

 

He remembers the funeral. His suit was a terrible thing that Eponine had brought by the apartment and Enjolras would have disapproved of half of the people his parents had invited. They had asked Grantaire to speak and he had politely declined. He didn’t have anything to say. Yet he wanted to say so much.

He remembers sitting in the graveyard everyday when he should’ve been in class. He would lay the chains of flowers Jehan had given him on the tombstone and sit in silence. He didn’t speak in the cemetery. He didn’t speak anywhere.

He remembers movie night. It was a month after the funeral, and for once it was Combeferre’s idea. He said it would be good to get together as group, though most of the time was spent exchanging nervous laughs. The group pretended to watch the movie but really they watched Grantaire, who hadn’t said a word since “the night”. 

He remembers coming to the first meeting run by Combeferre and Courfeyrac. It had been three months. They had recruited a few freshmen that had smiled and introduced themselves nervously. They blushed at Courfeyrac’s jests and nodded in agreement to everything Combeferre said. The rest of the group introduced themselves; Grantaire attempted to look uninterested. The meeting was adjourned and the new students asked Marius and Bahorel about the protest planned for the next week. They whispered, but Grantaire could hear when the subject changed.

_“Who’s that?” It was the shyest; he had spent the whole meeting trying to blend in with his chair._

_“Who?”_

_“The guy in the corner.” He saw Marius look up at him before turning back to the freshman._

_“That’s R.”_

“Grantaire.” His voice was scratchy and it felt wrong to speak after staying silent for so long. 

Bahorel and Marius looked at him, shocked.

“Oh my God, R-“

“Grantaire, my name is Grantaire.” He nodded to the freshmen. “But you can call me R, Grantaire is long, you’ll forget.”

He remembers the voice that replied. It wasn’t the voice of one of his friends, always so full of pity. It wasn’t one of the blushing freshmen.

No.

It was soft, almost a whisper, but it held all of the passion and confidence Grantaire had missed, all of the love and trust that he had thought gone. And he laughed through the tears that night, because it was so like him. He was always so intent on having the last word.

_“I disagree.”_

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for coolhedgehogbro. It only felt right to gift this to one of the first people to read it and encourage me to post it. Sorry it took me a while to finally do so.
> 
> If you have a prompt for me I would more than happy to write it. You can find me at sgtbckybarnes.tumblr.com


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